


Forlorn Maze

by NamethePlayer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bad Ending, Confusing, Dark Harry, Human/Monster Romance, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, No Fluff, One Shot, Sad Tom Riddle, Stockholm Syndrome, Suicide Attempt, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:42:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27100651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamethePlayer/pseuds/NamethePlayer
Summary: Since his childhood, Tom Riddle dreamt of a being that terrified his little heart. The young orphan thought he could escape from its clutch one day, that the dark monster would tire of him and leave him alone. Yet his wishes were never answered.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 5
Kudos: 47





	Forlorn Maze

**Author's Note:**

> Had a little pause in writing and thought, why not change your own style a little? And so, this little baby was born. Don't hope for fluff and cute romance here, I got no more of that to sell.
> 
> Also I would like to express my sincere gratitude to [alisha!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alfisha) who beta'd this uhhh masterpiece- Merci beaucoup :) 
> 
> TW: This fanfiction heavily implies rape between the main pairing. There's also a suicide attempt. If this is too much for you to handle, do not read.

There was a colour that Tom loved more than anything. Red, red and red. Such a beautiful colour that would flow out of your body, a sweet taste that would fall on his lips and make him smile in ecstasy. As a child, Tom would do anything to see that colour; to bath his delicate hands in that warm liquid. 

However, Tom hated the colour green. Not because it was the colour of grass or of the smelly vegetables on his small plate but because it was scary. Green was not safe, green was a monster ready to take him to meet Death. The young child dreamed of it many times, he knew he wasn't safe. 

He dreamt of the man covered in cold red, who would stare at him and smile, smile so widely that his black fangs would show and his eyes would crinkle in happiness. Was it joy, or madness? 

Tom didn't know, but he hated him so much. Those eyes that would stare at him hungrily like he was the most delicious dessert on Earth. The eight year-old child tried many times to escape his dream, to not sleep, to stay awake. Consequently, he became too tired to play with the colour red. 

Then, the old man came and showed him mistrust in blue. He stared at those eyes and he thought that green was more terrifying, more dangerous. He saw that those blue eyes turned to confusion and the visage had turned white when blue met green in return. 

The old man was worried. He talked to him, told Tom many things and asked if he knew where the monster came from, why he hid here. Tom coldly snorted, thinking of red, red everywhere if green knew. So the young boy shook his head and miraculously enough, or perhaps by misfortune, the old man stared into his eyes and green made him forget, made him turn around and the wizard left. 

Magic was wonderful. Magic was everything Tom wanted, what he needed and seeked since he saw a man stalking his dreams. He played with it, he made it his own; no one else’s. But the house was green and so were his clothes and when he saw his reflection in a mirror, he wished it wasn't so. 

Tom hated green. Even now, as a teenager, he couldn't stare into his own eyes, he despised the being still roaming his mind. The boy tried many, many rituals in secret to get rid of it, of _him_. He was so afraid, he wished for immortality. He would escape death, and bath in red for eternity. 

He grabbed his diary and was ready to spill colours across the floor, to grin madly and be victorious. But the monster inside his mind stopped him, took control of his body and made it so painful, he cried for the first time in years. The pain was worse than anything he felt in his short life and the monster laughed and laughed in joy, his black claws reaching out to stroke Tom's lips. 

"You love red. You love the taste. What about the pain before it?" 

The voice was raspy and Tom hated him so much, but he could only curl up on the wet floor and cry bitterly, the diary going up in flames under his dazed eyes. He asked him why he was so cruel to Tom, why couldn't he leave him alone.

"Because red is the colour of love."

Tom was too sickened. Many days after that failed plan to be immortal, he would puke each morning, his _green clothes - no, they’re black -_ sticking to his sweaty body. His mind was a mess; he couldn't concentrate. 

"Are you alright, Tom?" The old man stood before the pale teen, blue eyes no longer mistrusting after years of watching him be afraid, be cold and lifeless. 

Tom wouldn't answer. He would leave the old man alone in the corridor, stare at his hands and see his wrist being coloured in black and blue. He’d been tied up by the monster so many times, played with like a simple toy, made into a _lover that is not._

Day to day he would despair. He couldn't cry for help, even after being filled by green, he was proud enough to raise his chin and glare. He started to hate magic, started to hate the world. If magic didn't exist, he would have never met that being that spoke of time and of soulmates. 

He then had to leave his home. Many opportunities for wealth knocked on his door and Tom only shook his head and ignored the lot of them. His plan to dominate the world and make magic truly his became nothing, he couldn't even raise his wand and make a new wish. Tom could only decide to leave this place and hope the monster would do so too. 

Yet it never happened. The black-haired monster that was too huge, too inhuman and stuck to his back. He would grip him tightly and whisper words of madness and kiss his lips. Oh, how Tom hated it, he couldn't even breathe anymore. He could only grit his teeth and whimper in pain when the monster inside his mind and body became ravenous again.

Then, he had an idea. A terrible idea that made his heart beat too fast and his limbs tremble in fear. What could get rid of that monster faster than death itself? And so the young man with red eyes stood in an empty room and raised a dagger to his chest. His magic was too excited and tore at the walls like it wanted to be let out, out of this painful life. Tom raised his lips in a parody of a smile and-

The dagger plunged deep inside. 

However, what happened next didn't go to plan. The green light wrapped around his chest and his beautiful blood, _so red and warm_ , stopped and turned back inside his body. He was healed, he was fine again. Even some scar left around his wrist and his ankles left. 

He was angry. He was sad. Emotions that were now too much piled up in his mind and a flood of tears left his pretty red eyes. He endured so many years with this being, he stood by his side and let it violate his body times and times again without resisting. He was so tired, Tom wanted to rest his eyes and sleep without a nightmare ready to tear his skin. 

"Why can't you leave me?" He asked, his voice so broken while the dagger melted away by his side. 

The monster then did something that should never happen. He existed outside of his mind. Standing before his kneeling Tom, he grabbed his chin and wiped away a smudge of red. 

"I love the colour red too, dear."

And he laughed and laughed like a madman when Tom cried harder and tried to break away from his loving embrace. Tom was his possession, his bird in a cold cage. His little soulmate that shared a kind of immortality that the young human would surely hate. 

"By my side, you'll stay." He said, many hours later, when Tom was too broken to shed a tear, too exhausted to breathe without hiccups interrupting the silence around them. He could only accept this destiny, he could only lean on a monster and hope that he'll be free of the chains one day. 

Time passed and the years were flying by too fast. Tom traveled the world with the monster by his side. The strange entity noticed his discomfort as the years wore on and he tried to be more human for him. He was now so human that people would no longer see the twisting shadows inside that fake body. Tom knew and he gave him a name, one that came to him by instinct; he named him Harry, and tried to reduce his apprehension and terrible fear. 

There was a colour that Tom loved more than anything. Red, red and red. Such a beautiful colour that would flow out of your body, a sweet taste that would fall on his lips and make him smile in ecstasy. As a child, Tom would do anything to see that colour; to bath his delicate hands in that warm liquid. But now he changed and his love for red started to slip, consumed by green. 

Green filled him up so much he could only start to love it. One. Two. Three. Tom loved that colour and Harry kissed his lips and told him that the colours were not so important anymore. Yet he still touched until Tom was red, until he no longer dared to stay awake. 

"He loves me." Tom repeated to himself day by day, in an endless maze of sinking madness and green mixing with red. Blue, white, gold - was there even another colour? After he stared at Harry, who was still a monster in human's skin, he could no longer deny this sinking feeling. 

Tom was in love. 


End file.
